


Then, why are you crying?

by knightinpinkunderwear



Series: Prompt Fills [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Denial of Feelings, Hallucinations, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internal Conflict, M/M, Pining, Sad Ending, author is soulless, greif, psychological torment, repeated mention of dead character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinpinkunderwear/pseuds/knightinpinkunderwear
Summary: "I'm dead" prompt sent in by anonymousEd has a talk with the hallucination of his former best friend.WARNING: No happy ending, I don't have a soul and you shall suffer for it.





	Then, why are you crying?

 

“Do you love me?” The voice was rhythmic, smooth, with a music like quality to it. It was a lavish liqueur, making his mind tipsy and his knees weak. The hypnotic red light surrounded him, engulfed him. In the middle of the light was him, he was wearing a tuxedo, dressed impeccably, look complete with a top hat and white bowtie. His hair was slicked back and had a smirk that made Ed hot under the collar. The smooth jazz that acted as an ambiance wasn’t helping either. Ed panted as the man leaned closer and closer to him.

“No.” His throat was tight. He couldn’t say that to _him_ not after what _he’d_ done… Ed couldn’t. _Oswald had betrayed him..._

“Oh, Ed, I can tell when you’re lying.” He wished he could hate the ease with which his former friend spoke. How he wished he could bury how much he liked that Oswald knew him so well...

“I don’t love you.” This time words came out as a choked sob. The words were a lie, or at least not entirely true. But he couldn’t love Oswald after what he’d done to him, then his death had been for nothing, then Isabella would be wronged and betrayed in her already unjust death.

“Then, why are you crying?” The whisper tickled his face and soft hands -- _too soft--_ cupped his jaw.

“My best friend betrayed me,” He hung his head, letting the hands support it. He wanted Oswald to comfort him, Oswald was good at that. But, he couldn’t, he was sitting at the bottom of Gotham River being eaten by something.

“And now…I’m dead,” Not-Oswald spoke, with a calmness that the real Penguin would not have possessed in this situation.

“You’re not him.” That fact gave Ed no comfort. It meant his friend was really, really gone. And here he was, unable to move on.

“But, I’m close enough, right Ed?” _No._ He wanted more, he wanted everything, he wanted the temper tantrums, the limp, his cold but soft green eyes, his overzealous hairstyles, and eyeliner, the sense of style, his presence, his bloodlust, _everything_. But he couldn’t have it, he’d ensured that by destroying everything, By killing him and dumping him in the river. _Why had he done that? Surely living with betrayal would be better than this..._

“Stop calling me that, you aren’t him.” Only Oswald called him Ed the right way, he made it sound like a special, precious name. Everyone else said it like they were trying to get it out as fast as they could. Not-Oswald said it perfectly, but he wasn’t Oswald, he _couldn’t_ be _…_

“What if I were? Tell me, did you love him?” The red light went out like a flame and with it stole away his resolve. Alone, Edward Nygma cried. For the sting of betrayal, he still couldn’t understand, for lost love, for the confusion and conflict spiraling in his head. Why couldn’t it be easy? Why did he have to still care? Why did he have to miss him so much? Why did Oswald’s punishment hurt him so? Why couldn’t he just have a simple clean cut life? Why did everything have to be so messy and the lines so blurred? He couldn’t answer the questions in his head because he didn’t know those answers. But the question that Not-Oswald asked, he couldn’t answer that because it would make Oswald right. It would mean his death was _just the cold-blooded murder of someone you love…_

**Author's Note:**

> Denial is not a River in Egypt, Ed. But then again I always thought there were some good (at least good to Ed) psychological reasons for the denial. 
> 
> Sorry, I warned you that I have no soul.


End file.
